Best Perennially Poems


Premium Member Yarrow

The yarrow is a show stealer,
       a charming wildflower and garden plant
                    that blooms perennially 
                    around June to August.
Beautifying nurseries, greenhouses and waysides;
           it comes in many hybrid of colors;
                                white,
                                 red,
                             pale-pink,
                    and especially yellow.
             Captivatingly striking in yellow;
        it's golden parasol glows like the sun.

           A flower of remarkable versatility!
       It can be used for seasonal decorations
                and has large flowerheads
                      that are also used 
         to flavor a variety of culinary dishes
                     It can be cut, dried
                  and arranged in a vase
            without losing it's gorgeous color.

                 It is a sun's best friend!


Flower Or Flowers In Imagism Form - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Date written: 03/11/2021

Premium Member Unforgettable

               torrential rain 
               of t
                   e
                   a
                   r
                   s,
                    now dry;
         a pocketful of years 
             i wish
                    i could reclaim,
                d  r  i  f  t  e  d into oblivion,
                yet, it h   u   r   t   s 
                        to contemplate, still.
             though you've since 
                    blown your last goodnight kiss,
                you visit me
        time and time again, 
          for memories of you...
            are watered seeds
         in the garden soil 
                                of my mind,
             you perennially exist there 
                          as a peony
                        in full bloom,
           thriving past 
                 every season
                 It's where 
      I promise to keep you, Dad, 
                until my life 
                          is through.
                gone to glory
                        yet, you remain...
                                 unforgettable

Premium Member The Echo Returns Not

 I call out your name from hilltops and lofty mounts.
But I get no response, not even an echo return.
Once our laughter pulsated through crannies and crevices
And along seastrands with the sibilance of waves and the roar of billows.

When we paced hand in hand with a single song at heart against time and tide, 
Every word and every syllable you uttered echoed with a love so true,
Creating sweet reverberations in my heart and sending me to raptures.   

I don’t know when was it that the whirlwind came sweeping along
Scarring us by lightning as a flash of fury followed by deadly thunder
And crushed the delicate petals of our blossoming love.

I am plagued with longings and memories come crowding in my mind
Tears ooze out from the wide stretch and corners of my misty eyes.
I, then call out your name with all my might in thundering voice,
As the drowning man clutches at the straw, as the last desperate attempt.
But I get no response and no echo returns to my utter disillusionment.

However, in a mystical way, I get perennially connected
To your life’s light and darkness and your heart’s mute language.
Though no echo returns, in my heart your voice lingers for ever,
Chanting love’s sweet refrains and staying as a bitter sweet reminder.
I often get blended with your scent which stands out and makes me giddy
Among a plethora of so many other less intoxicating fragrances.

Now I wander through the empty corridors of my life
Again, and again calling out your name, but no echo,
R….E…..T…..U…..R…..N....S!


Borderline K-9 Cages


Parental desperation
is the dreadful flee bidden cause
Children separation
is the inhumane quarantine effect

Trying to cross the sovereign divide
is narrow mindedly viewed, by more than a few,
as a pestilent travel venture
Ill will is the chilling, unhealthy reception

The uncivil solution: Create an insane policy
for poor souls seeking asylum
Man-made designation is an animal control way station,
(also known as) Borderline K-9 Cages

See the perennially sad puppy eyes
laying fetal prone on the morgue cold, concrete floors
Watch the waning wag of the tongues,
their thirst for freedom dying behind iron bar doors

National psychotic behavior is borderline criminal,
keeping children in cages is morally indefensible
Diamondback mutes devolving into what?
Mental worms turning into heartless slugs!

Children developing separation psychosis
is a lonesome doggone shame
K-9 kids were never meant to be raised in cages,
yet no one wants to bear the blame

But many of the kennel keepers 
have gotten so inured to the ear-piercing, borderline pain
And the womb-ripped parents
are never told where the aborted-trip children were taken

Premium Member A Photographer Looks Back

For all those who’ve been captured by my camera lens,
I wish we could do it all over again.  
But time waits for no one despite what we see,
In images made of you and me.

In the snap of a shutter or the blink of an eye
A memory is frozen like tinsel in time.
Shiny and shimmering like diamonds and pearls 
Each one a treasure, immeasurable world.
  
Yet never to last beyond dawn’s early light 
As the picture of now is an illusory sight.
To have and to hold like water in hand
Hasten photographers to do what we can. 

To coax, cajole, position and prompt
People and places to do what we want
To fill up our cameras with just the right touch – 
Never too little, never too much. 

With just the right color, right texture, right mood – 
A slim slice of life that says what, where and who.
In a gathering of pixels of zeros and ones,
Technological marvel mixed with light from the sun.  

And oh what a ride I’ve had by your side
Be you stranger, family or friend,
Throughout the years of trying to make clear
What’s moving like clouds in the wind… 

People, places, flowers and trees, 
Sun rising and falling on rivers and seas.
Small creatures and features of wood, sand and rain,
Sky scrapers and ruins of ancient remains.  
 
The famous and infamous, lost and found;
The good, bad, beautiful and perennially profound.
Healthy, wealthy, humble and weak;
Down and out with nothing to eat.

But your smile most of all is my favorite frame;
Vignette of your memory, your life and good name.
Etched now in the hues of bold colors and grays 
With gratitude I have you to reflect upon today.

Music's Magic

They all speak to me:
sometimes alone, 
like a solo cello with 
its sad, plaintive voice, 
tugging at my soul
like a magnet pulling 
at life's deep mystery.

Or maybe a small group 
of rowdy instruments 
will gang up, into a quartet 
or sextet or even a very
tough octet, eight musicians 
playing as one, much like a 
small miracle of both fury 
and the gentlest softness....

But sometimes I go all out: 
I take on a hundred or more 
at once as they breathe life 
into a vast bold symphony by 
Mahler, Beethoven, Bruckner,
or scores of souls perennially 
reborn in music, music that 
can make its own magic, 
coming wildly into my ears 
while putting a taste
of Eternity on my tongue....


Premium Member Tiffany Mosaic Hues of Blues

Tiffany Mosaic Hues of Blues


Tiffany mosaic hues of blues

Reflecting on the vast ocean’s glass

Of an unexplored big blue world

Pursues to crawl on its belly up the inland shore

Reaching as far as its foaming fingers can smooth

Imprints left against the golden grains of sand

Receding to the horizons perennially blue sky sinking to a kiss

Expanding as far as the sapphire blue eyes can see

Sounds captured in the majesty’s wind

As we swallow the scents of briny tears


2/26/2016

United colours: BLUE - Poetry Contest 
 Sponsored by: Silent One
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Pesky Poppycock Payback Please Prepare

Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting
piquantly piqued, pimply pimping playboy, plucky
pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently
puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian

puppeteer pygmy, peevishly punky, plummy, plumy,
pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck,
pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied
piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing,

parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing
preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization
pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving
perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements

projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging
packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish
psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic
protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist,

polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic
postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache,
peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious
puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial

principles, plenty public parking, purposefully
promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing
paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters,
profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball

players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional
palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling,
proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating
phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote

phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting
paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating
phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place
purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.

Premium Member Pantoum Form - Tiffany Mosaic Hues of Blues

Tiffany Mosaic Hues of Blues
Pantoum Form


Tiffany mosaic hues of blues
Reflecting on the vast ocean’s glass     o’re
An unexplored big blue world
Pursues to crawl on its belly up the inland shore

Reflecting on the vast ocean’s glass    o’re
Reaching as far as its foaming fingers can amend
Pursues to crawl on its belly up the inland shore
Imprints left against the golden grains of sand

Reaching as far as its foaming fingers can amend
Receding horizons perennially blue sky sinking to weave
Imprints left against the golden grains of sand
Expanding as far as the sapphire blue eyes can see

Receding horizons perennially blue sky sinking to weave
Sounds of ocean waves captured in the majesty’s wind
Expanding as far as the sapphire blue eyes can see
As we swallow the scents of briny tears and wet sand

Sounds of ocean waves captured in the majesty’s wind
An unexplored big blue world
As we swallow the scents of briny tears and wet sand
Tiffany mosaic hues of blues

2/27/2016
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Year of the Street Urchin

Another year of  
Homelessness, 
Joblessness, 
And abject poverty. 
Year after year
He wanders about the slums
Shoeless, 
Trudging through mud 
With bruised feet 
Life's uncomfortable; 
A bed of roses 
Full of thorns 
Pricking his weather-beaten skin
When he lies down to sleep at dusk. 
Each daybreak, a blessing 
To be alive, 
Each day, a struggle 
To exist, to survive
Out on the mean streets
Panhandling, 
Dumpster-diving,  
Shelter-hopping 
Perennially down-on-his-luck;
Why is life so unkind 
To this poor soul? 


''Y'' Contest, New Poems - Poetry Contest
Theme chosen: Year
Sponsored by Constance La France
Date written: 12/02/2021

Heartbroken Clouds

Mingle with mounts,wander arid desert sands
seep into seas,lie lone o'er unknown lands
replicate waves of myriad mirrors flowing below
stand on meadows high engulfing green bands
innocent smiling children, gaze in delighted awe
at tufts tickling kites with a feathery fluff claw
the meditating sage atop a peak simply seeks
that all wants, wishes,into this vapour withdraw
stepping stones on the patchy pastel sky
furrowed fields, they fade,and away,they fly
shifting, shrinking, shapeless strewn shreds
white paint stroke streaks hovering high
in ripe time, like truth, they silently freeze
they twist and break with the blowing breeze
or seem darker than lies hidden away
than truth clouded, delayed or unreleased
creeping crimson hues mark presence
climb slow the soft snowy effervescence
as they eclipsed the sun, it lost sunshine
its soul seemed dead,life lost the essence
a sight that reminds of love's fulfilling bliss
this upside-down land that the angel's kiss
afloat on cotton cushions,watch the world amok
running across horizons,floating this abyss
the shadows shielding are so dark, so dead
how the heart and soul shiver in dread
fearing the sunshine shall never return
wishing to merge with the clouds instead
overcast meaning, truth casts a shroud
flashing rage in sparks,thunders angrily aloud
live dreams not fears, crush doubts not hopes
cries the perennially pouring heavy cloud
at times soft clouds meet thundering peers
throwing lightning, thunder, words and fears
tender hurt hearts shatter at the harshness
making broken clouds mourn a million tears

Premium Member Scarecrow

Scarecrow

You'll find me 
in paddy fields and gardens;
even on front porches. 
I'm a decoy, as lonely as can be. 
I look frozen in time, 
mimicking Jesus 
crucified on the cross, 
but I swear I mean no disrespect, 
you religious zealots! 
Blame farmers and gardeners! 
They make me look this way! 
They live to humiliate me; 
dressing me up like a ragamuffin, 
stuffing straw inside my coveralls, 
placing a dumb-looking hat 
atop my head; you name it! 
Yes, I know I look ridiculous. 
I wish I'd put 
my perennially outstretched arms down.
Don't be scared of me, kids, 
I speak no evil 
I don't speak at all, 
and I do not harm anything 
that breathes air 
Yet you humans choose to avoid me 
like the plague 
but come Halloween, 
you all love me for just a day! 
Go figure. 
Yeah, I see some of you 
staring at me, chuckling; 
whispering amongst yourselves 
about me having no brain 
in the "Wizard of Oz" movie. 
In my defense, 
It was a misrepresentation! 
I don't speak, but I'm not that dumb! 
I know how to do my thankless job 
and do it well. 
I scare off all the birds 
that peck at newly cast 
seeds of growing crops, don't I? 
Not so brainless now, am I?

Date written: 05/15/2020

Premium Member Pumpkins

Pumpkins, pumpkins every
place. Pumpkins on my lunch
plate. pumpkins under moon
Placid, silver, shining
'Pon that pumpkin patch orange.
Pumpkins gathered, cooked done
Perennially served, hon

Justice In Vogue

Blue collared of the swindled lot, cannot resent just brace
Credibility so easily slapped for rough hide when pieces put into place

Daybreak compels list of chores into focus
Semblance to rain faberge for owners of circus

Stolid apparell for hauling load, a sanctioned acrostic of strength
Entered by destiny but no exit even if they desire from this labyrinth

Justice a joke in fractal trigonometry
Law a limbered warble for rich but austere for those in poverty

Dusk time in regailing assortment of means to satiate hunger pangs
Overlooking the shoulders, for the voted cult may suck scraps over tax returns

Samiha's serpentine gaze keeps vigil for mendacious ritual by rich perennially every May
Sustainance on others ration will ensnare them in a time warp of condemn and ruin someday

Premium Member Saints and Sinners

Oh, where are them saints? 
Perennially in hiding?
Sinners, all I see


Date written and posted: 10/28/2016

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